


Pick a God and Pray

by ofwrittenlegacy



Series: Web-Head & His Old Tin Can: Copious Fluff (Fix-it Fics) [5]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Fix-It, Hurt Peter Parker, Other, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Has Nightmares, Peter Parker Has Panic Attacks, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker has PTSD, This a very abstract kinda angsty nightmare fic, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Has Nightmares, but he doesnt know how to say it, endgame happens still but not like canon, enjoy, everyone is okay, he could just burst, i'm a very bad writer lmaoo, it makes no sense tho lol, love u boo xx, peter says ily for the first time, peters a baby and is sad, physically not not emotionally, so he cracks jokes, so much love, starker dont touch bby, theyre soft, this goes out to the purple ballsack called thanos, tony loves peter so much, wow i love this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2020-05-02 12:07:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19198465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ofwrittenlegacy/pseuds/ofwrittenlegacy
Summary: Peter wakes violently from the third nightmare that week. Tony's gotten used to consoling a hysterical teenager but that doesn't mean he's any better at it. But he loves the hell out of him nonetheless.





	Pick a God and Pray

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Buckets_Of_Stars](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Buckets_Of_Stars/gifts).



Death was staring him in the face. 

Peter was trapped, frozen. He was in a yellow tinted enclosure, incarcerated and chained. And Death was seducing him. He took many forms. Thanos, Vulture, the silly gunman from last Thursday. His hands were surprisingly warm as he touched Peter’s neck. Warm like the singular tear Peter felt drip on his forehead as he turned to dust in his mentor’s arms.

“You really shouldn’t trust a soul in this game,” Death said, smiling. “Not when everyone has something to gain or lose.”

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Peter begged himself to wake up. This wasn’t real. He could make it stop. He screamed. Peter screamed himself hoarse. Until his throat was raw. No one answered.

Death wrapped a hand around his throat. “It’s time for you to answer for your sins, Peter Parker.”

* * *

 

Peter woke up fighting. He swung but his hands didn’t connect with anything. Instead, he found himself being pinned down. He couldn’t breathe. The room was still and quiet but Peter felt a hurricane of emotions whirling within him. In his muddy, half asleep brain, Peter could make out the faint glowing blue light above his head but panic was beginning to settle into his bones. 

It starts out as thin as cellophane, something he could tear away with his fingers but in the next moment it’s a deluge of ice water drenching every limb, creeping higher until it enters his mouth and nose. That's when the attack becomes absolute, shutting his body down like Death had pressed his biological reset button.

He hadn’t realized he was crying until the weight pinning him down lifted.

“Whoa, Pete, hey, breathe! It’s just me. I-It’s Tony. Fuck, uh, FRI, I need lights at 50%.” Slowly the lights came up and Peter realized the faint blue light he was staring at was coming from Tony’s chest. It was comforting. Peter focused on the light and drug in a deep breath. He had to keep breathing. He forced his chest to expand, gasping greedily for breath.

“Hi, _yeah_ , there we go buddy. Good job. Keep breathing for me, Underoos.” Peter blinked, sending the hot tears down his cheeks. He could see Tony lowering himself to his knees by his side. A callous thumb brushed across his cheek, chasing away the tear. Peter leaned into the touch. "It's over now. I'm here."

“Hey kiddo,” Tony whispered as if he were afraid he’d scare Peter. His attempts were futile but Peter was grateful nonetheless. At least he could breathe again but unshed tears clung to his eyelashes. “What’s going on?”

Peter pushed himself up on an elbow. He was in his bedroom in the tower. Tony was wearing sweats and no shirt. He was sleeping, a rare occasion, and Peter felt a pang of guilt.

“I had a bad dream again.” He replied lamely. Now that he uttered it out loud, he felt stupid for the theatrics. It was nearing sunrise and Tony was cooing to him all because the Soul Stone left him with some unpleasant memories. How was he going to be a superhero if he couldn’t handle flirting with Death?

Tony breathed out a laugh. “Yeah, I saw. Seemed pretty rough. Want to talk about it?”

Peter kicked off the covers and sat up. His chest hurt and his hands were shaking. God, he hated waking up so violently. It was a wonder Tony was able to keep him pinned down with his super strength whilst managing to dodge the punches Peter was throwing. Tony was a miracle worker.

“Not really,” Peter rubbed the back of his neck. Now that he had come to, he felt his face heat with embarrassment. He was almost 17 and here he was, sitting with Tony Stark, who had watched him blubber like a baby and now his mentor was going to play Dr. Phil. He just wished it would all stop.

“Well, at least it was just a nightmare. It’s over now.” Tony grunted and he clambered to his feet and sat next to Peter on the bed.

“Riddle me this.” Peter focused on Tony. In the faint light, Tony’s hazel eyes twinkled. He had been through twice as much and yet here he was. A few grey hairs but he was here. He was whole. He was okay. Would Peter ever be okay? “How can I call it a nightmare if it doesn’t end when I’m awake?”

That seemed to floor Tony. They were both familiar with the concept. Peter couldn’t breathe when his class started talking about cosmology or astronomy. Tony had nearly collapsed the first time he heard _Another One Bites the Dust_. The end of the world had nearly came. It wasn’t a nightmare anymore. That was a bullshit nickname fed to children when they thought the boogie man was going to chew off their toes. This was a day terror. Something that terrorized each person’s every living moment. The fear that something greater than Thanos would come. And this time, they wouldn’t win.

Peter stared up at Tony, hoping he had the secret answer to cure him but Tony stared back with the same haunted gaze. Everything flipped through his mind like a photo album he wanted to burn.

“That’s the price, buddy.” Tony said softly. _Distantly_. “Sometimes you sacrifice your own sanity for the well being of others. But you keep fighting. You always keep fighting.” Tony said. _With great power comes great responsibility._ Peter cast his gaze to the floor but Tony caught his chin, searching his face. He cupped his cheek. “I’m here for you. When you’re ready to talk. I’ll always be here for you.”

Deadly and sweet. Tony was two souls fused together. He was everything Peter needed and more than anything he deserved. Peter launched himself forward, wrapping his arms around Tony’s neck. Tony laughed and snaked his arms around Peter’s lower back. He could feel Tony shudder with contained laughter when Peter pressed his face to his neck.

“I love you, Mr. Stark.” 

Peter was halfway sure he could hear Tony’s chest still in his chest. He knew Tony wasn’t accustomed to affection. Howard had never been one for the warm fuzzy feelings, according to records. So he was doubly surprised when he felt Tony press a cold kiss to his forehead.

“I... _yeah_. I, uh, love you too, Peter.”

Peter visibly relaxed, tension bleeding out of him like a marionette with its strings cut.

“You look awfully tired for a web slinger. How about we try the sleep thing again?” Tony tried to sound casual but his voice sounded tight with emotion.

“Will you stay?” Peter asked. Innocence laced the question to heavily, it seemed to startle Tony into remembering he was just a child. Just a child.

Tony easily pushed Peter to the other side of the bed, and then slid beneath the covers. “Absolutely.”

Once he settled, Peter wasted no time crawling over and wriggling his way under his arm and resting his head a little to the right of his arc reactor. The faint blue glow was comforting. A constant. As long as it kept pulsing, he’d be okay.

“FRI, lights off.” Tony said softly, holding Peter close. Darkness cast shadows over the room. “You good kid?”

“Yeah.” Peter yawned. “Thanks, Mr. Stark.”

“Consider this a rare delicacy. Not many people can say they’ve shared a bed with _The_ Tony Stark.”

“Only two-thirds of the entire population. _Super_ rare.” Peter began smiling when his head vibrated with Tony’s thundering laughter.

“See, I know you’ll be just fine, Pete.” The arm tightened around Peter and he felt a flicker of hope. Maybe he would be just fine.

Tiredness swallowed him whole. His chestnut lashes fluttered and oblivion engulfed him. Sleep painted him, and then Tony, coloring them and dragging them under; as though the intensity of his exhaustion had created a perfect canvas for them.

**Author's Note:**

> AHHH! God, I love making Peter suffer but also he deserves better. You know what I mean? Eh, he can take it.  
> Reach me on tumblr: @ofwrittenlegacy.  
> I love you all. Thanks for reading! xx.


End file.
